


Touch in the Dark

by OlitaLola



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Art Student Reader, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Female Character, Pietro Maximoff is a Little Shit, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Peggy Carter, Protective Steve Rogers, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Verbal Abuse, bad boy bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2020-12-20 17:44:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlitaLola/pseuds/OlitaLola
Summary: Lately, it seems like nothing you do is right. Your art is suffering, your relationship is burning to the ground, and weird dreams of a handsome stranger plague your sleep. But tonight is Peggy's birthday party and you feel like turning a new leaf. What could go wrong?Disclaimer: I suck as summaries -_-'





	1. Chapter One

Warm hands framed your face, tilting your head up. Plush lips moved but no words came out. Your hands moved up and feathered through the man’s raven hair, fisting the strands as if your life depended on it. You felt your own mouth forming words, but you were also mute. His hands encase yours and slowly removes each finger from its firm hold. The man gently pulls away and your eyes meet his, they’re pale blue and very cold. Tears begin to stream down your face, you reach for him but he steps away again. He looks away, more silent words spill from his mouth. When he looks at you again, a look of anguish blankets his features. The way his lips pout as the corners sink towards his jaw and the sunken orbitals of his skull are darkened further sends a shiver down your spine and shakes your soul. Whatever is happening is final. There is no turning back. And you feel yourself break in half as a tear slides over his cheek and disappears between the slant of his jaw and the collar of his jacket. You feel yourself sink down and it’s at this moment you realize you are in a large bed, blankets mussed from sleep and passion. You gaze at your hands, feeling the shape of a name, his name, pass your lips. You look up, only to see he is gone. The only thing that remains is the vice that your heart seems to be in, as you hiccup and desperately try to contain your sobs.

*****

“Fuck.” Everything hurts as you roll onto your side. You look at your alarm clock as you rub your eyes and see that it’s well past the end time of your first class. “Fuck.” You groan as you roll onto your back and push the heels of your hands into your eyes. Your phone rings, startling you. You search for it in the mess of blankets and your mind flashes to the look of the bed you were in with that man. “Fuck.” You finally find your phone and see it is the last person you want to hear from right now. Your boyfriend, who also is the TA for the class you are currently late to, Pietro. Unfortunately for you, it goes to voicemail before you pick up. You put your head in your hands and groan again. Your phone begins ringing again and you immediately pick up. “I’m sorry,” you say quickly, drawing out the ‘y.’

“(Y/N), where are you?” His voice is stern and laced with anger. You fist your fingers in your hair and the flash of dark brown hair lances through your mind.

“In bed…I just woke up.” He is silent on the other end of the phone. The brief pause caused by a yawn is all he needs.

“Alone?” His question stings.

“Yes.” You say without hesitation even though anger is bubbling into your lungs like lava.

“Are you okay?” His voice is softer, but suspicion is still wrapped around the question like a snake ready to pounce. Any wrong step and you know he will start a fight, accuse you of something that you have never thought of doing.

“Yeah, Piet, just overslept is all. I stayed up all night trying to finish my research paper on Delacroix. Slept like the dead, must not have heard my alarm–“

“Or my phone calls?” He spits it out like venom. You sigh.

“Or your phone calls. I had just woken up when you called me. My phone as bunched in the blankets or else I would have picked up the first time.” You begin to rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry okay? I have to finish that paper before class tonight. I’ll see you after, right?” You drop your hand as you look down at the sheet.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss our date tonight for the world.” You frown, hearing the way sarcasm weaves through the spaces of each word. “See you tonight then, love you.” You almost whisper it. “See you tonight, vanya.” The line goes dead.

*****

With the paper printed, stapled, and neatly held by your 19th Century European Art History folder, you walk into class and sit down next to your favorite blonde.

“Hey,” All-American golden boy, Steven Grant Rogers, artist, and heartthrob says with a beaming smile.

“Hey! How’d your paper on Monet go?” He whips out his finished paper that is nearly twice the size of yours and smirks.

“I’d say it went pretty well. What about Delacroix?” You shrug and slide your meager paper out of its pocket.

“Well it still came out better than I thought but I doubt I’ll get anything over a C.” He guffaws and flicks your forehead.

“Don’t curse it like that.” He laughs, back bowing out as he crosses his arms over his chest. You know this pose. It’s his lecture pose. “If you doubt yourself, you’ll never pass this class.”

“You mean if I don’t get my hopes up, I won’t be disappointed.” You smirk at him before facing forward as Professor Frost walks into the room.

“If I had that mindset, Peggy might not say yes to me tonight.” He snarks as he follows your lead. You choke and turn to face him again quickly, eyes bulging out of your head.

“What?!” You whisper loudly.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)! My class is ready to start, so unless you’ve discovered something very new and interesting about Delacroix, I suggest you pay attention.” A couple of others in the class snicker and you feel your ears heat. Steve elbows you as you sink down and when you look at him, he winks.

*****

As class ends you feel all the questions you’ve been holding onto bubble out. “How are you going to propose? Can I see the ring??? STEVE! Why didn’t you tell me!?” You are nearly vibrating where you stand as he packs up his notebook and other belongings. He pulls out a small black velvet box and opens it. His positioning is awkward since he is still hunched over his bag, you snatch the box from his hand and take in the beautiful arrangement of gems. “STEVE!!!!! This must-have cost a fortune!”

“I’ve been saving for 7 years, (Y/N). But that ring? Didn’t cost me a dime.” He takes it back from you and looks at it lovingly before closing the box and putting it back in his bag. You realize the ring must have belonged to his mom.

“Your mom would’ve loved Peggy.” You murmur as you squeeze his shoulder. He smiles at you, grabbing your other hand and squeezing it.

“You and Piet are gonna be there tonight right?” You nod, the smile on your face feeling tight.

“Yeah, of course! I wouldn’t miss this for anything, Steve.” You hear Pietro’s words echoing back to you. A throat clears and you look to the door, Pietro is leaning against the frame, a frown on his face. You know why he’s frowning. He has never liked how close you and Steve are, but unlike every other time this has happened, you don’t let go of Steve.

“Hey, Piet!” Steve says, dropping your hand in order to wave at him, the hand you had on his shoulder slips off and you finish packing up. All the joy you were feeling tastes like ash on your tongue.

“Steve,” Pietro nods at him and the mood in the room sours further.

“See you tonight, (Y/N),” Steve says, looking at you with pleading eyes before leaving. You raise your hand in a wave and silently brace yourself.

“You two are cozy as ever, huh?” Pietro starts and you set your stance as you stand, slinging your backpack onto your shoulders.

“Yep, 4 years of friendship does wonders for people, babe,” you say, the anger from earlier mingling with your newfound irritation. “I thought we were meeting at your place?”

“I was working late, figured I would just meet you here. I’m short on time anyway.” You begin to walk out and he stills you with a hand on your elbow. “I don’t think I can make it tonight, vanya. Stark is asking a lot of me this week, I don’t think I’ll have much free time.” You nod, the anger melting a little.

“That’s okay, I don’t think we would have stayed out very late tonight anyway.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“You know I’m trying right?” He throws the words at you.

“Pietro, I really don’t want to talk about this right now. I have to get home and get ready for Peggy’s birthday party. It’s a big night from her and Steve.” You pull away but he grabs your hand and forces you to come closer.

“What if _I_ want to talk about this now, (Y/N)?” You try to pull away again, his grip becoming firmer, his other hand grabbing your face. Suddenly, Steve walks back into the room.

“Forgot one of my books.” He states, his face giving away, instantly, that he is lying. You shake Pietro off you and grab Steve’s hand.

“I grabbed it, let’s go.” You physically pull Steve with you out of the room, you feel anger and fear ball up inside of you.

“(Y/N),” he whispers, his pace matching yours.

“I know,” you murmur, letting go of his hand, you wrap your arms around yourself and sink into Steve’s side. “I promise, I’ll do it tomorrow. I don’t want him to ruin Peggy’s party, or your chance to finally propose to her.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is trying to look on the bright side, but her worst enemy has always been herself.

The party is in full swing when you arrive. You had to take a couple of extra minutes to find something that would cover the finger-shaped bruises on your arm from when Pietro grabbed you. You quickly find Peggy and Steve who are hanging off of each other in the living room. You notice that she isn’t wearing the ring yet and breathe a sigh of relief, happy that you hadn’t missed the big moment.

“Darling!” Peggy squeals and pulls you into a hug, kissing your cheek and snuggling her face into your neck. You raise your eyebrows at Steve and he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “I’m so happy you’re here! I hope Piet isn’t far behind you.” She says this pretty loudly and a couple of people turn their heads to give you a questioning look.

“No, he won’t be here tonight,” she pulls back and looks at you dreamily, pink coloring her cheeks before she smiles warmly.

“Good,” is all she says, danger flashing in her eyes. Her sudden change in opinion gives you subtle whiplash. Steve wraps his arms around her again and whispers something in her ear. She smiles again and grabs your hand. “Steve told me to behave tonight, but it’s my party, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. And what I want, is to say that Pietro is an asshole who doesn’t deserve you. It’s hard to believe he and Wanda are twins.” She is about to go on when Steve covers her mouth.

“I should go and say hi to the other people, but I’ll come back around later and we can do a shot together?” The way her eyes light up tells you that a smirk is hiding behind Steve’s giant hand. You kiss her forehead and look at Steve before you head to the kitchen for something to drink.

You squeeze past the bodies watching as Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, and Rhodey help Scott Lang do a keg stand. You grab a drink and settle against the counter, watching the shenanigans continue. Guilt settles into your belly. Guilt and a dull ache that feels like sorrow. You're really happy for Steve and Peg, but you can't help but envy what they have. Pietro had never looked at you like Steve does Peggy. He had never bragged about how special you were, at least not in your presence. It made you burn with anger towards him. It dawns on you that he has never made the effort to be with you the way you have with him, but you can only blame yourself. You never tried to talk to him about it, never tried to right those wrongs, and never, not even once, told him you were unhappy. Shame makes you hug yourself, you try to pull your head out of your ass and focus on the amazing event you're going to witness tonight. Thor Odinson hands you a shot in passing and you knock it back easily. Maybe having some liquid courage will help you not feel like such shit. Pietro can wait until tomorrow you muse. Tonight is about getting shitfaced and celebrating Steve and Peggy.

*****

Six shots and three beers later, Steve is leading Peggy to the center of the room. Everyone is silent as he makes a sappy speech about how amazing their relationship is, how lucky he is to have her in his life, and how he hopes that she'll be his best girl for the rest of his life. You have tears in your eyes, but mostly from the thought that you're _waaaay_ too drunk to be around _this_ many people. You watch through bleary eyes as Steve gets down on one knee and opens the black velvet box to a sobbing Peggy, she grabs him up from the floor and immediately kisses him. Everyone cheers, even you attempt to clap for them, but the sudden movement has you regretting your decisions. 

At this point, you're desperate for a place to lay down and sleep. Steve and Peggy are being swarmed by their friends, fresh shots are being poured, beers toasted, and you are even more determined to go and lay down. Steve and Peggy’s house is huge with several bedrooms. You shuffle over to the stairs, only getting stopped once by Clint Barton who asks if you're okay. You lazily give him a thumbs up and he smirks at you. Squeezing your shoulder and wandering off to probably find Natasha and gossip.

*****

Quietly stalking up the stairs takes longer than expected. The last time you got this wasted, someone carried you to a guest bedroom that wasn't too far from the bathroom. You think you remember which one it is, and you quickly come upon the door. No sock and no tie on the handle means you immediately enter. You sigh with relief. This is the right room.

Leaving the lights off, you look around, letting your eyes adjust to the dimness. Moonlight comes in through the window, softly illuminating a direct path to heaven. The bed calls to you, but you get distracted by something on the wall.

Several posters from movies you’ve always wanted to see are placed neatly side by side. Your eyes flit over to the corner of the room, there is a new desk with a closed laptop and a notebook that has been left open. Even though it's dark, you realize the handwriting doesn’t belong to Steve or Peggy, which surprises you, they never mentioned having a roommate. Your fingers linger over the scrawl, barely making out some of the words, but the distinct angles and loops of the letters seem familiar. There’s a calendar with X’s over the days that have already happened, a couple of notes are scrawled under certain days but it’s too dark to read them either. You almost want to turn on the light, just to make it easier for you to look around, but you’re worried someone would see your shadow moving under the door. At this point you feel silly, wondering why you thought drinking so much was a good idea. You feel more and more ashamed the longer you stand there, raking your hands through your hair, even fisting them and pulling at the strands. The image of the stranger’s hair flashes in your mind again and you think about the dream, wondering again why you had it. Your mind wanders to Pietro, the way he speaks to you, the way he always accuses you of the stupidest things. But you’ve been together for 3 years, and he wasn’t always so mean. You sit heavily on the bed and hear it creak at the action. Burying your face in your hands, feeling the anger from before bubble back up. _Stupid! He’s a bastard don’t feel bad!_ You scream in your head, closing your eyes and pushing the heels of your palms into your eyes. This entire situation is fucked. You dramatically lay back with a huff and take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. This is going to be over soon. Just go over to his place tomorrow and then you’ll just leave…Right? You think about it for a minute and then pull out your phone. No texts. No calls. Maybe just break up with him in a text. You feel a rock settle in your stomach. It doesn’t feel right but it seems safer than being alone with him. You sit up and lean your elbows on your knees as you begin to type out the message. You pause, the rock steadily becoming a boulder. You gaze at the floor to collect your thoughts, racking your brain to decide. A dark blue button-up at your feet catches your eye, you pick it up and fold it to take your mind off things. You stand and set it on the chair and turn to go lay down. You don’t realize just how tired you are until your head hits the pillow and you’re out like a light. The message you were about to send lingers in the text box, three dots form above it, you continue to sleep as your phone chimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Marvel fic and the second fic I've ever attempted to write. Feedback is always welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fresh morning brings fresh perspective and insight to the mystery man.

Deep laughter fills your ears, the feeling of soft lips against your neck as you squeal with laughter, the warmth of arms wrapping around your waist, and happiness filling you up. You roll over and bury your face in a solid chest, feeling immensely content, your name quietly being said as you look up into warm, pale blue eyes. You feel your lips whisper “I love you,” before they meet the man’s lips and he pulls you more firmly against him. The feeling of your bare legs against his and something a little more prominent sliding against your thigh makes your sigh. You feel his groan hit your lips and you gladly swallow it as you smile. You feel like you are flying as the touching and noises become more hurried and rough before his fingers can trace the crotch of your underwear you are being pulled from sleep.

*****

Your eyes open and are greeted by the early morning light and complete silence surrounding you. The lack of banging and yelling is something you are thankful for since your head is pounding right now. Your neighbors are usually super loud in the morning, but apparently not today. You reach for your phone but it’s not there. You look around for it and realize this isn’t your room…your nose wrinkles and you look down at the blanket covering you, which also isn’t yours. It hits you then, the smell of bacon and weirdly it causes you to remember that last night was Peggy’s birthday turned engagement party. Steve or Peggy must have come in and covered you up this morning when they realized you were in here. The smell of bacon wafts under your nose and you smile. The clock next to the bed says its 9 am. You are even more thankful that it is Saturday morning which means no work, no class, no obligations. Curious, you open the door and start to walk down the stairs but see a man already coming up the stairs. He looks sullen, dark, and withdrawn, like a total party-killer. “Hey,” you say quietly as he passes you. He turns and looks at you, his eyes loosely tracing your face before he pauses. As he turns to look at you more fully, you realize it’s him. The guy from your dream. You open your mouth to say something else but turns away and barrels into his room, slamming the door behind him.

“(Y/N), I didn’t know you were up there,” you hear Steve call up the stairs, you whirl to look down at him, you smile sheepishly. You touch your head because moving so quickly was a complete mistake. You point behind you and he looks confused, frowning and crossing your arms over your chest he simply laughs and turns away from you. With one last look at the man’s door, you descend to the living room.

Steve must be a magician because the house is completely spotless.

“Woah, how is the house this clean?!” You hear him chuckle as he flips a pancake.

“Not my doing. I think Bucky stayed up last night to clean up. Which is more than I can say for you.” He shoots you a pointed look and your ears go red.

“What’s that smell?” You hear Peggy call out right before she reaches the bottom step. You let out a sigh, feeling relieved by her interruption.

“Breakfast for my fiancée,” he says with a smile. Peggy giggles as she disappears behind Steve, her arms wrapping around his torso. A knot forms in your stomach as you stare at them. The feeling of unwanted intrusion hits you like a truck, this should be their private moment. Looking down at your feet, you are about to leave when you turn and run smack into a firm body.

“Hey JB, how’s it hanging?” Peggy says cheerfully from your peripheral. Fuck. He moves away and goes to the fridge, you stare at Peggy and she smirks. “Did you just get in?” He grunts in response, not looking at her until he takes a swig of orange juice. You feel your face turn beet red as you take in his figure, heat travels from your face to other regions of your body as flashes of your dream run through your mind. It’s quickly replaced by memories of the previous dream.

“Yeah, it’s been a long night,” you’re pulled back to the present, his eyes are burning into your face. “I was looking forward to sleeping for a couple of hours but my bed is trashed. I thought no one was supposed to go up there?” He turns his attention back to Steve who merely shrugs. You feel your face flame as you look to Steve who glances at you with a raised eyebrow. You pointedly look away and think of a way to excuse yourself.

“Oh, don’t be mad, JB! Someone probably got too drunk and fell asleep in there. I’m sure they didn’t touch anything.” You hear Peggy say as she grabs plates from the cupboard, setting them down before looking at you. You feel two more sets of blue eyes lay on you. One like a cool blanket, the other like a furnace of hatred.

“I didn’t know anyone was staying in that room.” You say hands buried into the pockets of your jeans. “If I had known I probably would have called an uber last night to take me home. I’m sorry for trashing your bed.” You look at him, hoping that your sincerity bleeds into every aspect of the apology. “I’ll go make the bed right now.”

“Don’t bother,” he says and huffs, looking away from you.

“Let’s eat!” Steve says, trying to break the tension.

“I’ll leave you to your meal, see you guys around.” Peggy frowns at this but doesn’t keep you from leaving, Steve smiles and says goodbye. JB doesn’t pay you any mind. You go to the closet and grab your jacket and purse. As you close the door you take one last look at the kitchen, seeing Steve and Peggy eye-fucking each other while Steve serves her hash browns and eggs. JB is looking at you again and you pause. His eyes rip from yours as Steve calls for him.

“Buck, if you don’t grab a plate and grab some food, I don’t think you’ll get any.” The last thing you see before you close the door is Buck/JB taking the plate that Steve held out to him. You’re not even ten steps down the path when you hear the door open and you freeze. Hearing it close, you turn to face the person who has exited the house.

“We’ll get breakfast tomorrow, okay Peggy?” JB is standing stock still, just staring at you. You slowly stand straighter as you feel heat creeping up your face.

“Don’t worry,” the voice is quiet. “I’m not mad, I’m just a little confused.” Your eyes meet and it hits you all over again, this is the man you've been dreaming about. You blush, folding your arms around yourself.

“You’re confused? I’m the one who has gotten Oscar the Grouch-ed for the past twenty minutes. I…” you trail off as you take him in, the soft way his hair falls around his face, the warmth in his pale blue eyes. His eyes search your face, you might be mistaken but it seems like he recognizes you too. “I’m sorry, I should probably go.” He shrugs and leans back against the door. You turn to leave again when he speaks.

“I just want to know why you were in my room.” You turn back towards him, his look is pained. It reminds you of the look he gave you in your dream two nights before. “You look familiar, is all. I just don’t want it to be because I fucked you at a party and now you think we’re a thing.” He says this flippantly, you bristle, closing your eyes to calm yourself before you say something crass.

“I’m not some chick you fucked at a party. I think you knew that before you came out here.” He is silent. “I’m sorry I crashed in your room, I slept there last time I got shitfaced and I didn’t think anyone had moved in. If you want to get even, you are more than welcome to sleep in my bed and trash my room.” You open your eyes and he is looking at you incredulously.

"Why would I want to do that?" He looks at you more intently. The way his eyes trace over you makes you shiver. 

"It's just a simple offer. N-not like I'm trying to get into your pants or anything." You hug yourself tighter, hindsight being 20/20 and all. When you look at him, his eyes are soft, he has a lazy smile on his face.

"So you just want to get in my bed, but not my pants?" He quirks an eyebrow at you and you blush deeply. The brief interaction you had with his dream-self last night still pretty fresh in your mind.

"E-Exactly..." He smirks at you and you roll your eyes.

“You having a party any time soon?” He relaxes further against the door.

“If I survive breaking up with my boyfriend? Maybe.” Your hands are balled in the pockets of your jacket.

"Let me know, I wanna make sure I have a reason to trash your bed." Your face is completely on fire at that. He realizes what he said and quickly backtracks, a deep red settling onto his cheeks. "You know what I mean!" You turn and walk away quickly, face still on fire.

"Ye-Yeah, yep, I know exactly what you mean, crystal clear..." His eyes burn into the back of your head. You honestly don't know if you'll survive seeing him in your bed. "See you around JB!" You wave over your shoulder, continuing to walk away.

"Call me Bucky!" He shouts after you. You turn around and look at him, his eyes have something behind them that you can't place. Both of you are still blushing. 

"Bye, Bucky." You give him a small smile and continue on your merry way.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get a little spicy in this chapter when Reader finally breaks it off with Pietro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long absence. I've been dealing with a lot of personal life stress the past few months and now that I've dealt with most of it (fingers crossed), I should be trying to update more regularly. Please let me know what you think of the chapter in the comments. I hope it's everything that you guys have been waiting for!

As you walk into your apartment you release the breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Bucky. That was the dream guy’s name. A guy you didn’t think existed. And for some reason, Steve had never mentioned him to you. You rest your back against the door and close your eyes, his smirk coming back to you. Your own smile tracking across your face as your mind wanders to the things he had done in your dream. You don’t realize your fingers are touching your lips until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, shocking you out of the memory. You look at your phone and see it’s Piet. Your heart sinks to the pits of your stomach. 

You see that he’s called you a few times and texted you a million more. You don’t even read them as you unlock your phone and text him a very brief message on the way to your bedroom. 

** (Y/N): This isn’t working anymore. I’m done. **

You don’t even wait for a reply before you toss your phone on your bed. The wait of this makes the pit in your stomach sink lower, your heart is clinching in your chest but it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your body. You slowly take off your clothes, reveling in the feeling of being free. And it hits you that _freedom _is the only word you can think of to describe ending your relationship with Piet. 

The water comes on with a hiss as you twist the knob in your shower. The steam rising a few moments later as the stream comes to temp. You step in and feel even more weight falling away, the clinch in your heart eases and the sinking feeling disappears. The good feeling of a new beginning helps to work out the knots in your shoulders and your mind returns to Bucky. You open your eyes. Since when did he become “Bucky?” What happened to JB? You shake your head and close your eyes again as you lather shampoo into your hair. The more pressing question is the dream thing. That whole mess feels more like a movie plot than anything. But they felt so real…like a memory. You can faintly hear your ringtone playing through the open bathroom door. And you find yourself looking at the drain, watching the suds wash away. You know that it’s Pietro and everything goes cold. You knew this wasn’t going to be quick and neat like you wanted it to be. Pietro was quick but he was anything but neat. 

You shake the cold from your body and resolve to text Steve about this whole thing after you get out of the shower. He’s the only beefy guy you can trust with 100% having your back right now. Not that Piet would physically harm you but still, Steve could be intimidating, and he is the only person you’ve told everything to. Wanda was a viable option too, but since Piet is her brother, you didn’t want to put her in the middle. You force yourself to finish your shower, telling yourself that you deserve it after fumbling through meeting Bucky IRL and ending your three-year-long relationship with King of the Shitty Boyfriends. 

***

One set of clean clothes and a shot of Fireball later and you finally dare to look at your phone. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the notifications.

**8 Missed Call**

**5 Voicemails**

**25 Text Messages **

All from Pietro.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You don’t want to know what the texts say, even though part of you knows exactly what they say. Instead, you tap the voicemail notification and prepare yourself for an earful. The generic voicemail lady’s voice says her usual spiel and you feel every muscle in your contract.

“_(Y/N), I was hoping you would be back by now. I got out of work sooner than expected. Might stop by Steve and Peggy’s. Call me. _” The first message isn’t too bad. He sounds happy, hopeful almost. Then the next message starts to play. 

“_It’s been three hours. Why haven’t you called me back? You fucking Steve? Is that what’s going on right now? You know I rushed at work to get my shit done so I could surprise you. But you’re not even picking up. Well, I hope you’re happy, bitch. I hope you’re happy fucking that asshole! _” You’ve heard him say these things so many times that at this point you are numb. You’re not surprised at all that this is the level he has stooped to. 

“_I’m here. Guess what? You’re not. Steve’s new roommate told me he doesn’t even know who you are. Huh. Guess that means you’re just a fucking liar. We’re done, (Y/N). I want my shit back.” _He had come to the party last night? And he spoke with Bucky? Why hadn’t anybody told you?! Not that it matters. You guess that was what was running through their heads. Although Bucky didn’t know who you were so why would he tell Steve? But wouldn’t Pietro have looked for Steve or Peggy to ask them? The next message plays and you remember that he “officially” broke up with you in the last one.

_ “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said before. Please just call me. I’m worried. I want to make sure you’re safe. Steve isn’t friends with the best people and the last thing I want is for you to be taken advantage of. I love you.” _You blanch, wondering how long it took him to call back. You would check your call logs after you heard the last voicemail.

_ “Are you fucking kidding me?! _ You’re _breaking up with _ ME. _ After everything we’ve been through, you’re letting one voicemail end everything? I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. You’re throwing away three years of happy memories for what? Let’s just talk about this. I’m coming to see you. I don’t want us to be over. Please baby, let me show you how much I love you. Let me make you feel good and show you why breaking up is the worst thing you could want right now.” _The speed at which his tone changed sickens you. And the thought of him coming over here right now and trying to sweet talk you into staying together scares you. So you text Steve.

** (Y/N): I broke up with him. **

** Steve: Piet? **

** (Y/N): No my other boyfriend. **

** Steve: I’m proud of you. How’d he take it? **

** (Y/N): Well he’s in denial but also mad??? **

** Steve: Why is he mad? This is literally his fault! **

** (Y/N): I don’t know Steve. But he’s coming over right now to try and makeup and I don’t want to be alone. I don’t know what will happen if he comes over trying to fix things. **

** Steve: You don’t want to fix things right? **

** (Y/N): NO!!! But I do want to get rid of all the stuff he’s left here. Give it back to him. **

** Steve: I can do that for you. **

** (Y/N): It’s okay. I’ll just leave it in front of the door. I promise I won’t go outside or open the ** ** door. **

** Steve: I’m coming over (Y/N). **

** (Y/N): I want you to come over. Its why I texted you. **

** Steve: Okay then what’s the problem? **

** (Y/N): He thinks we fucked last night. The last thing I want is for you to get dragged into this too. So he can’t know that you’re here. **

** Steve: Sounds like I’m already dragged into it. See you in 10. **

You give up, tossing your phone onto your bed. Time to get all of Pietro’s stuff out of your life. You see one of his button-down shirts, a favorite of yours on the floor and that’s the first thing you stuff in a black trash bag. Next comes his lighter he left here last week, a couple of his textbooks he never returned, a charger that he liked keeping here for just-in-case, and a couple other articles of clothing. After three years this is all that you have of him. He doesn’t even keep a toothbrush or deodorant here. You think about anything he may have given you as a present, but all his gifts involved sex. Birthday sex, Christmas sex, Anniversary sex, Make-up sex, Shower sex, Just Because I’m Here sex, and one time it had even felt like hate-fucking. Three years, you thought, wasted with a sorry sack of shit that only wanted to fuck and yell at you. Tears bubble out of you as the thought of it all comes crashing down. You feel like an absolute mess. Bucky’s face flashes into your mind as if the memory sensed your sadness. But it isn’t from a dream it’s from this morning, as he lazily leaned against the doorway of Steve and Peggy’s house and asked if you were having a party anytime soon. The stupid smirk of his was dangerous. That smirk could probably start a war. Or stop it. That smirk made your insides melt. You lean back against the wall, trash bag still in hand, as you find your fingers on your lips again. 

That’s when the knocking starts. A soft rap on the door. A sound that is so familiar to you that even the warmth of those blue eyes and the slight tilt of Bucky’s lips can’t prevent your insides from turning into a lead weight. The knocking comes again and you hesitate, you try to think about when Pietro texted you and the timing doesn’t make sense if he was coming from his own apartment. Maybe you were mistaken and it was Steve, but the way he knocks is completely different, not a soft rapping of knuckles on wood that could easily be missed unless you hold your breath but three strong knocks that alert you to a visitor. You peek through the peephole and see dyed silver hair. _ Fuck. _

“(Y/N), open up.” He says, he sounds tired. “I have your stuff.” You sag in relief, at least he’s only here to drop off your stuff, not try and apologize or anything. He knocks again, more fervently, “please, open the door. I just want to get this over with so we both can move on.” 

“You can just leave it at the door. I’ll drop your stuff off later.” You say, loud enough for him to hear.

“Why can’t we just do it now? Just let me in.” He almost pleads. 

“I haven’t gotten all of your stuff together. I just got home.” You lie. 

“Is someone in there with you?” The accusing nature of his tone settles into the pit of your stomach.

“No.” You say it firmly. He is silent for a beat.

“Then can we talk?” His hair disappears shortly before a soft thud hits the door. He must be resting it against the door.

“There’s nothing to talk about Piet. I don’t think we’ve had anything to talk about for a long time.” Your voice is soft now. Why couldn’t this have been easier? You were settled in your decision and just a few moments ago it seemed he had too. He’s silent on the other side of the door. “Leave my stuff in the hall. I’ll bring your stuff later when I’ve got it all. I just want to take a nap.”

“(Y/N), just let me in. We can nap together and figure this out. I don’t want to give up on us.” You heave out your own sigh. Hoping that Steve is going to show up soon.

“I’m not giving up, I’m walking away. Pietro, can you honestly say you’re happy with the state of our relationship? Because I’m not. This is over. I’m not opening the door, just leave my stuff and go home.” You closed your eyes, hoping that he would leave and that Steve would be here soon to grab your stuff from the hallway. You feel sick from this entire interaction, feeling like this weight is draining you of every ounce of strength you have. But you won’t waiver from this decision. You may be tiring but the wall has already been built and the bridge already burned.

“I should never have gotten together with you.” He mutters, but the doors here are thin. The toxic sap that has slowly been building up in your stomach turns into a knife, and he twists it easily into your gut. “I didn’t bring your stuff, I was hoping to convince you to get back together so we could fuck one last time. Then I was going to break up with you anyway.”

“Please just go,” you hear the weakness in your voice, feel the tears dripping down your face. “Steve and Bucky are going to be here soon to help me pack up your stuff, I’ll have one of them drop it off at your apartment building later, just please go.” You hate that you’re begging at this point. You just don’t have anymore energy.

“I hope they break your heart.” He says and you hear the thud of his fist hit the door, it startles you. You laugh. He hears it and this time he kicks the door. “Fucking whore.” You hear him stomp away, still muttering to himself, and you close your eyes, cradling yourself in your own arms. Relief washes over you in waves, ready to move on and start clean. You slowly stand, and just as you’re about to open your door, you hear a loud thud.

Tearing the door open, you rush outside and look around wildly, your eyes settling on Bucky, who is now pinning Pietro to a wall. You are frozen in place as you take in Bucky’s appearance. His eyes, which had been light and warm this morning are now dark and cold, his stance solid and unwavering, and to top it off his fist is balled up in Pietro’s shirt, keeping his feet a few inches from the ground. You make it about five feet before Steve’s wide shoulders block your view, his body shielding you from the situation. You try and push past Steve but he only allows you to move sideways but not a single inch closer.

“What did you call her?” Bucky’s voice is like the wind, quiet but strong. 

“You heard me, Barnes. She’s a whore. Don’t you know she sleeps with your best friend in between classes?” He sneers and Bucky’s lips twitch as his frown grows deeper.

“I think you need to apologize to (Y/N).” He says in reply, his eyes growing into hard slabs of stone.

“Apologize? To that _ bitch _?” Pietro looks like a complete lunatic as if some sick part of him is enjoying this altercation. His eyes are flashing silver and his hair is standing up like he’s been electrocuted. He’s sporting an insane grin filled with hatred. You see Bucky’s fist tighten. He looks over at you before inhaling and closing his eyes. When he opens them again, his eyes are blazing. “You know what? You can fucking have that slut.” Steve’s grip on you tightens as Bucky pushes Piet higher up the wall. “Just better hope you’re better in bed than me or else she’ll find someone to fuck behind your back t” Bucky’s fist connects with Pietro’s nose, his face seething with rage. Pietro’s eyes are wide and you feel your stomach lurch. Steve’s beside Bucky immediately and pulling him off of Pietro. He pushes Bucky towards you and grabs Pietro himself. 

“How many times do you have to be told punk? (Y/N) never fucking cheated on you. Now fuck off and be thankful that you only have a broken nose.” Steve lets go of Pietro’s shirt as he pushes him away. He stumbles but somehow maintains his balance, thinking for sure he was going to land on his ass. He looks at the ground, his hands balling into fists as his eyes, full of fiery anger, settle on you. And it’s like his act is completely different. He looks at you like he’s the victim and it takes everything inside you to not puke. 

“(Y/N), I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I’m sorry, okay? I love you.” You feel the urge to look away but instead, you level him with your gaze, your anger has simmered for so long that at this moment, it bubbles out of ice-cold rage.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I heard every poisonous, disgusting word. I don’t think you understand that it’s over, Piet. I don’t want to fix things, I don’t want to have shitty makeup sex, I don’t want to deal with you calling me a liar, a cheater, a whore, or any other vulgar word you think is fitting of me. I don’t want to see you or your tiny dick again. I want absolutely nothing to do with you. Now get the fuck out of my sight.” You spit as his eyes begin to glare at you. 

You turn around, brushing away Steve as he reaches for you, and walk back to your apartment. Several heads are now poking out of their doors and taking in the spectacle you four have made. You deflate as you look at each one of them, seeing the mixture of pity and amusement. You don’t want to think who they’re directing it at. You’re almost back inside when you hear Bucky’s voice that has suddenly turned more menacing than a nuclear bomb.

“Walk away or I’ll fucking plant you.” This isn’t a simple request but a very bold and dangerous threat. You turn in time to see Pietro slowly get up, looking from you to Bucky before he turns the other way and leaves. The adrenaline from the confrontation leaves you almost immediately and you feel yourself waver. Steve gently takes your hand and tries to lead you back into your apartment, your eyes don’t leave Bucky’s back as you watch him deflate, shoulders slumping, hands back in his hoodie’s pockets, and hanging his head.

When he turns around and sees you watching, he freezes, eyes going wide. You feel the blush creep over your face, you look away as you finally allow Steve to pull you inside. Bucky trails behind, a blush of his own trailing down his neck, he slowly follows after you, closing the door behind him.


End file.
